Fifth Grade Oddball

I waited with my mother at the admittance office on the first day of school.  I was the new fifth grader.  Even if I weren’t the new kid, I stuck out.  There was nothing soft or round about my appearance.  I was at once too much and not enough.  Too much hair, sharp elbows, knock-knees, thick eyeglasses, lanky, flat chest.
 
Mom noticed most girls my age wore training bras.  She pulled me close to her and peered down my blue first-day-of-school top.  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.  “You’re being left behind!”
 
I tore away mortified.  Everyone within earshot heard.


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